35. Ambrose—age nine
Ambrose—age nine
“ I t’s really cold today.”
I pull Dollie closer to me, both of us resting on the dresser as I continue the song I’ve been singing repeatedly for the last few weeks.
“You’re the reason for my smile, the reason I’m alive. You’re more than sunshine, more than air, the single thing I care… so much about.”
It’s Mom’s lullaby for her and kinda for me, too. She’d sing it at the door to annoy me each night before bed in the new house, and whenever I told her I was too big for lullabies, that the movies I’d watched hadn’t scared me, she’d enter and kiss my floppy hair.
God, I miss her and the floral scent that follows her around the house.
I even miss Dad moaning at me for staying up far beyond my bedtime.
“You’re the reason I’m here, my purpose, my dear. Forever and always, you.”
The song resonates with me so much as I sing it between cold gasps for air.
We’re freezing and soaked to the skin, shivering against one another.
“Do you think it’s Christmas yet?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think Santa knows where we are?”
“No. The Tooth Fairy didn’t, remember?” One of my teeth is now replaced with a new and bigger tooth.
“Yeah. I remember.” Dollie takes a big breath, creating a fog around us. “Your arm is bleeding? Did Chuckles do that?”
“No,” I answer truthfully. “I did it. While you were sleeping.”
I don’t tell her I did it with a piece of broken glass I found in the water. I don’t tell her that the broken glass is in my back pocket, ready for the next time he comes too close, or that I hope I’ll have the energy to drag it across his throat.
Fighting off thoughts of germs was difficult, but I was willing to take the chance after staring at a scar he gave me for hours. I needed to change it slightly so it would no longer be something he gave me.
It’s been a few hours now, and it’s still bleeding, making me feel a little woozy.
It’s probably because of my low energy level. Both of us can feel our energy levels getting lower. I’ve started only to eat when Dollie does. It’s my way of bribing her, and it rarely works.
Every bone in her tiny body can be felt as I rub my hand over her back.
“Does it hurt you?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“You’re lucky. I think it would hurt me.”
“Well, nothing will hurt you as long as I’m here.”
“Thank you. I love you.”
I squeeze her only a little tighter because I am truly afraid I’ll break something and drop a kiss into her hair. The thoughts begin about the dirt clinging to her, but I can’t wipe my lips. I can’t push her away when she’s all I have.
I hum the song again, more for me than her, realizing more than ever that the words mean everything.
“You are the reason, Dollie. The reason I’m still here. I’m not lucky. I just have to protect you.”
“Because you’re the best big brother.”
“I’m sorry I was mad at you at the start of all this.”
“It’s okay. You’re not anymore, right?”
“I’ll never be mad at you again. I promise.”
The basement door creaks open, and my eyes roll shut for a moment.
Dollie forces herself up, and a puddle forms around us while I’m still sitting down. Shaking the drips from my fingers, I try to push the yellow liquid from the dresser.
“Well, isn’t that disgusting. You’re disgusting.” Colin smiles at Dollie. “I bet your brother really hates you and all the germs you carry.”
Her worried little face snaps in my direction as I push myself up.
“I don’t. I don’t hate you.”
“He’s lying. I think he needs a night off.”
Before I can comprehend what that even means, Colin stomps through the water. He pulls Dollie from the dresser by her hair, and she splashes into the water that’s now up to her shoulders.
“No!” I jump down behind her as she coughs and splutters, sucking that filthy liquid into her mouth. “She can’t breathe. She can’t fucking breathe!”
Trying to keep up with them, I hoist her up, her skinny limbs wrap around my neck and waist.
“Let her go!” I scream.
I stop dead as he nears my face, a creepy smile on his.
“No, if she wants to piss and shit all over my property like an animal, she can sleep outside like one.”
His giant shoe moves beneath the water and catches me between the legs. I fall to the ground, having never experienced a pain like this one—a pain that steals the air right from my lungs.
Water splashes over my face as I struggle to pull my hands away from the area that causes me so much pain. I sink, sucking it in just like Dollie, who I’ve lost from my grip. Her cries ring loudly and painfully in my ears, echoing under the water as her body hits each wooden step.
Forcing myself up from the water, I choke out, “No, please, don’t!” My intention was to shout, but my words came out in a whisper. “Please don’t take her. Please don’t hurt her. Please!”
The door slams shut as I move forward, crouching and still holding where it hurts. I barely make it to the bottom of the steps.
“Dollie!” I’m louder this time. “Dollie, I’m so sorry.”
I don’t stop, even though I can’t hear her or Colin beyond the door anymore.
The dead silence pushes me up each step, and I cling to the door between us, pounding on it with both fists.
“Dollie! Dollie? God, please, please don’t fucking hurt her. I’ll trade. I’ll trade places with her. Please don’t fucking hurt her.”
A sob leaves me, my heart breaking over the unknown as I sit alone, terrified for my sister.
The dirty window catches my eye, directly opposite me from the top step—the clanging of a chain and a voice that I can barely make out sound beyond it.
That fucking clown.
“Dollie!” I scream once more, but she doesn’t answer.
Time passes, and my voice fades out.
It feels like days, but it could be hours or even weeks before the door opens again.
I fall through it, landing in the kitchen. A brightly lit space that hurts my eyes.
I push myself up, scanning the white cupboards and silver accessories.
“Where is my sister?”
“Learning her lesson.”
“What does that mean? Is she okay?”
“Follow me.” The clown waves me into an open-plan living room that showcases the same colors.
The TV is on, paused on an episode of Law and Order. Dad likes that show—it reminds him of work.
My shoulders feel heavier thinking of him.
“This show gives me anxiety.” Colin switches it off with a remote on a small table at the side of his sofa, but he doesn’t return it. Instead, he tosses it onto the sofa with such force that it bounces off and smashes on the floor, causing the batteries to fall out.
“Come this way.” He opens the door to another room, and I follow him into a dark hallway.
My eyes feel better with the lack of light, and I can move faster, not having to worry about falling over all his clutter while I can’t see it.
“Where’s Dollie?”
“I told you.”
“You said she was learning a lesson. Where is that?” I pause at the bottom of this staircase, the door to the outside world just to my left.
My eyes roam there, to the stained-glass window that resembles the windows at home.
“You do that, and you won’t see her again,” he sneers from the center of the staircase.
“I’m not going anywhere without Dollie.”
“Good. Now, do you want to change those stinking clothes? I bet you’re freezing, and there are germs all over you.”
I nod slowly, hating that I have to accept anything from him.
“What do you say?”
“Thanks.” I shrug.
“Good boy. Now, follow me.”
I do as I’m told, trailing him until I reach the second floor. The shiny wood below my wet socks is gleaming and causes me to slide, hurting my knee again. I almost whimper, but force my lips to stay closed.
His bedroom carpet, old and worn and filthy, is both a welcome relief and something I fear as I reach the room.
I freeze in the doorway.
“Don’t worry about getting that dirty.” He points to the carpet. “It’s being changed after Christmas.”
So, Christmas is soon.
“When is Christmas?”
“In five days.” He disappears into another room, leaving me surrounded by dark furniture. The sound of water tells me it’s his bathroom, and I follow him into it. All the while, the hairs on the back of my neck rise and tell me I shouldn’t.
“Get out of those clothes and put them in that basket over there.” I keep my pants on, not wanting to undress in front of him.
I feel like he sneers over it, but I can’t see his face. His bathroom lights are blinding, and I need to rub my eyes again.
My hands move from my face, and he’s right in front of me. I jump back, not getting far because his fingers loop into my belt holes, and he tugs at my pants. The weight I’ve lost means they land on the floor, taking my boxer shorts with them.
I don’t even dare look down at the underwear I’ve worn for almost a year or my new bruises down there. I keep my gaze on Colin, our stares meeting. He’s the first to look away, those bulging eyes dropping to where my hands move to cover myself.
“Did I hurt you earlier?” His dark eyes look sinister, the diamonds around them blacker than ever.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, though, is it? Grown-ups aren’t meant to hurt children.”
“No, I know, but things happen.”
Things had happened before with Dad, and it left me with a permanent limp and the inability to achieve my dreams.
I swallow down the memory of me demanding to go back to Ireland outside the old apartment. Of the shove Dad gave me that had me tripping off the sidewalk, and the snap and crack of two separate bones that ring in my ears.
“Oh, has someone hurt you before?”
“It was an accident.”
“Yeah. Earlier was, too.” A big smile appears on his red lips.
A fear of clowns isn’t something I claimed before, but the hairs on the back of my neck still stand tall.
“What do Mommy and Daddy usually do when these kinds of accidents happen?”
“He apologized. He took me to the hospital. Mom was caring. She always kisses us to make us feel better.”
“Oh, really?” A new look appears in his eyes.
I step backward again, stepping away from my clothes.
“I don’t need that from you,” I tell him, stepping backward until I hit the wall.